Boiling Point: Forget the meal  pass the bruschetta

I always blow it with bruschetta, those bread chunks grilled in garlic and olive oil. I lay out a bruschetta plate for an appetizer. Guests pig out, leaving zero room for dinner.

Jim Hillibish

I always blow it with bruschetta, those bread chunks grilled in garlic and olive oil. I lay out a bruschetta plate for an appetizer. Guests pig out, leaving zero room for dinner.

Bruschetta is the No. 1 reason a lot of Italian food leaves the restaurant in plastic boxes. One bite and you’re hooked.

There’s history in that bite. Bruschetta was named in the 15th Century, meaning garlic bread, but probably cooked long before that. Chefs of old found it a wonderful way to dispose of stale bread. Stale really is better than fresh here.

In its most simple form, the bread is sliced in chunks, painted with oil and garlic and grilled until golden. After that, it’s cook’s choice. The best bruschetta offers flavorful toppings that contrast to the bread.

Keeping it simple is a key, otherwise you may wind up with mini pizzas. If you find yourself fussing over the bruschetta, you’re probably doing too much. White bruschetta is topped with provolone cheese, salt and black pepper. That’s all.

Toppings only get more complicated from there. A classic is fresh mozzarella on fresh, seeded Roma tomato slices, garnished with chopped fresh basil.

I like chicken livers sautéed in garlic and then pureed and herbed with a little dried marjoram. Mediterranean olives ground in oil make an easy tapenade that’s always a hit.

Folks who hate anchovies seem to like them on bruschetta. They’re excellent mashed and topping roasted red peppers.

One of my favorites is orange marmalade mixed with horseradish and topping cream cheese.

Let your fridge be your guide. Some of the finest bruschetta is simply what’s left over in there.

My all-time favorite bruschetta was offered in the Venice Tratoria in Norfolk, Va. It was presented without a menu description and could be anything the chef desires that day. Anna the waitress advised it was useless to make suggestions. I went to that place dozens of times and don’t recall seeing the same bruschetta twice.

The optimum bread is Italian, or course, in half-inch chunks and including the crust. The most handy is the French baguette sliced in diagonal rounds. Some chefs grill the bread on both sides before adding the toppings. Others like a softer approach and grill the toppings and bread at the same time. Using a ribbed grill that creates dark marks is mandatory.

Even the most simple of bruschetta requires close watching. There’s always an exact moment when they are perfect. One moment later and they are hard and overdone.

The Italian way is to grill them on stovetop. Bruschetta even has its own grill, the brustolina. This is flat steel on legs that fits over a gas burner.

I like grilled bruschetta best. Broilers toast the bread, a different animal. Grilled locks in the flavors of garlic and olive oil.